Travelsonabike2 Thursday 6th-July-2023

Garry McGivern Travelsonabike2 is cycle touring in the UK Thursday, 6th-July-2023. In Brockenhurst. And there I was thinking that I wouldn’t have anything to write about today! Haha, how wrong was I?

I decided to stay in the New Forest and have a lazy day today. I did contemplate going to the Isle of Wight again. Despite what I said yesterday. And maybe as things turned out I should have.

It was nearly 10 o’clock and I was already starting to get bored. I knew it would happen it always does. I always like the thought of sitting around doing nothing, but the reality is, that I soon get bored and wished I’d moved on. But I’d made the decision and paid for another night. So I decided to go and get some supplies for the day. Mainly beer, it’s never quite as boring when there’s beer to drink.

I left the campsite and set off for the shops. But on route, I decided to take a detour down another road. I thought I’d been down it before, but after cycling down it I wasn’t so sure. (I probably have cycled down it before and just forgotten! The memory of a gnat) anyway as I was bimbling away, I saw a road named Butts Lawn. It tickled my childhood sense of humour so I decided to cycle down it. As I cycled down I came across a ford. They’re always fun to cycle through and thought it might look good on my YouTube channel so I turned the camera on.
I know, instead of flying through, as I normally do. I’ll cycle slowly, it might look good. I think that was my downfall. Quite literally.

Bloody Idiot

Camera on, and I started to roll down the slope towards the ford. As I entered the water it started to get somewhat deeper than I’d expected and was up to my wheel axles. It was too deep to try and glide through and I had to start peddling. But my front wheel must have hit a rut and I started to fall off. I put my foot down, but it didn’t work and off I tumbled into the water.

The infamous ford, with remnants of my cuts still on the road a couple of hours later

On the way down I must have caught my shins on the peddles. There was blood pouring from both legs. Particularly my left leg, which looked bad. I quickly picked myself up, looking around to see if anybody had seen me. Thankfully nobody had. The water had turned red with blood, as I dragged myself from the ford onto dry land, there was blood dripping everywhere. Best I head back to my tent and sort this out, I thought.

As I cycled back to the campsite, my foot kept slipping off the peddle, my flip-flop was full of blood. It was relentless. As I arrived at camp I decided that this might be a little too much for me to sort out and stopped at the entrance to ask for help.
The staff were as good as gold and looked after me superbly. Although they did think that I should perhaps go to the hospital for stitches. But as far as I was concerned they steemed the bleeding and that’s all I wanted. I didn’t want to mess up my tent or sleeping bag after all!

Unfortunately, I had to venture out again, after I’d been fixed up. I hadn’t got the beer I went out for in the first place! And stubbed my toes on a tent peg. That was it, after getting my beer I spent the rest of the afternoon around the tent. Drinking beer and watching others struggling to put their tents up.

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